I moved anxiously in my chair, looking at the pair that was right in front of my eyes. The way their bodies collapsed moved. Their skin seemed to melt together. Moans, breathing passion, its twisted hands, connected bodies…
I couldn’t turn my eyes away from the scene in front of me. It had been too long since I had the opportunity to experience this kind of lust – since I had divorced my last partner almost six months ago and promised never to get involved again. Or at least until I find someone who can teach me to orgasm. I had tried to convince myself that I did not long for sex at all, that I could break out into the world myself and prove my success as an independent woman. That was the reason for these weekly solo film screenings – a date with yourself, taking care of yourself, time for me and me alone. But watching these bodies merge with each other on the huge screen, I knew I needed something.
I slipped out of my seat and went down the stairs that led to the toilet in the small retro cinema.
This cinema had been around for decades and usually showed quite interesting films – in this case, art film classics, which seemed to consist of about forty percent footage and naked voices and low roaring sounds. It had been a long time since I had heard such things. And it excited me more than I could comprehend.
My plan was to steal down to the amenities and slip my hands in panties to ease the heightened mood and be able to continue to focus on the film’s plot.
Going down, something caught my attention. I turned around, feeling as if someone had caught me and knew what I was going to do. I realized I was standing next to the projector booth. You could see the old-fashioned projector flickering through the small window – it was definitely what scared me. I was about to move on when I saw something else that made me stop.
A man a little older than me — dark hair, a pronounced jawline, strong hands — his eyes were clinging to the screen, and I could see his hand moving just below my angle of view. My jaw sagged. Does he…?
It was at that moment that he looked at me, and our eyes met, and I knew he had noticed me. He stopped doing what he was doing and approached the door that separated us. My heart was beating fast. He seemed to have had the same reaction as me.
The door opened and he looked even better without the glass pane between us. I let my eyes travel around his body – I saw the curvature in his pants and felt the heat in my body grow even more intensely.
“How can I help you?” he asked. I let the look return to his face.
“Yes,” I replied. “I think you can.”
I crossed the threshold, pushed the door behind me, and forced my body against him.
He did not wait for the invitation; his hand was already in my hair, and his lips were kissing mine – the foreplay had been the movie we had both watched, and we were more than ready to continue.
He did not waste time; already swollen, he lifted the hem of my dress and let it slide over my hips. Reaching between my legs, he tore my underwear in one quick motion. I grabbed his hand and pushed it to my dexterity, allowing him to feel me, to feel how ready I was for it. He put his lips to my neck and, teasing me, dipped his fingers in me.
And then, just as easily, he wrapped my legs around him and pressed me against the projector table so that I could see the glorious sex scene that had led me to this position unfolded in front of me.
He passed his hands over my ass, pressing his fingers into my body, and he let out a low growl — the growl that had driven me crazy through the speakers and now made me even more excited.
I heard the rustle of a condom pack and then felt his long cock forcefully slide into me.
I gasped as the sounds merged with those that came from the screen in front of us. And that feeling was indescribable. He held my hips tightly and entered me again and again, taking me firmly without fear, just as the man on the screen in front of us did. Seeing this reflection of ours in front of me, it all became even sexier – I could feel every moment, capture every sensation.
I began to move even closer to him, circling my hips against him, taking him even deeper into myself. I didn’t even know the man’s name, and I didn’t really care. We did not need words at the moment. We needed passion, a sense, we had to fulfill these roles with each other.
I felt myself approaching the climax I needed so much – the mix of true feelings and visual stimulation was more than I could bear. I pressed my hands to the glass in front of me and watched the woman on the screen. I felt her panting, her muscle contraction, pain, burning need… and then liberation, finally, at the very moment, he was.